


A Series of Events

by mamasita13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Character Death, Kidnapped Stiles, Magical Claudia Stilinski, Mentioned Sheriff Stilinski, Non-Human Claudia Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Warning: Kate Argent, time travel (sort of)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:07:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamasita13/pseuds/mamasita13
Summary: In which Stiles kills Kate Argent.





	1. Serial Killer, Kate Argent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles kills Kate Argent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took out the subplot of Kate being in Hell and I posted in another fiction. I hope this is better without the subplot.

_ Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows  _ _   
_ _ Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together  _ _   
_ _ Brighter than a lucky penny  _ _   
_ __ When you're near the rain just disappears, dear…   
  
Artist: Lesley Gore   
Album: Lesley Gore Sings Of Mixed-Up Hearts

 

Serial Killer, Kate Argent

 

Kate Argent rarely made mistakes so she hardly ever have to regret those mistakes. Kate was an experienced Hunter. She’d been trained since she could walk and the true training began as soon as she could talk. So mistakes were few and Kate would admit to those mistakes when she made them. They were a learning experience. 

 

And this one. Well, this mistake. It took the cake. Didn't it? 

 

Yes. Yes, it did. Yes indeed.

 

Because.

 

Because of course, it did. It took the motherfucking cake and ate it sloppily. With big fists full of colorful icing and white fluffy sugary bread and jamming them into a gaping cake hole. Making a fucking mess and enjoying it.

 

Because who didn’t have cake and eat it too? A fucking dweeb. That’s who. And this boy may be a loser but he’s not a dweeb.

 

So Kate. Well, she understood it. She did but she didn’t have to like it. Kate was dying of something she didn’t even think was even possible.

 

Yeah. Kate could admit to being wrong about killing a cop's wife and trying to do the same to his son. What's worse is that Kate underestimated the five-year-old snot-nosed brat. A child with no muscles. No weapons. A  _ human _ boy with no claws. A fucking kid with a fucking mouth full of… bees. Fucking bees!

 

Kate would have laughed if she could have taken a breath. It was so NOT funny. It’s ironic is what it was. That anaphylactic shock would equal the end of Kate Argent. For all that was good and holy. Was this really? What really took out Kate Argent? The most prolific Hunter of the 21st century and all it took to get her off the fucking chess board was a fucking swarm of bees?

 

Yeah. Kate Argent: fucked three ways to Sunday. 

 

Kate watched the swarm of bees settle as they moved on leaving her writhing on the ground in a puddle of her own urine. It would have made her shiver if she could move. But she couldn't. 

Kate was paralyzed. 

 

Something was bothering her about the bees though. Something she couldn’t quite grasp. Kate tried to focus but her anger was making her see red. 

 

‘This couldn’t be happening!’ Kate thought angrily. The bees were alive but they were clearly NOT Africanized Killer bees. She didn't know how she knew but it didn't matter because it was true. These bees were just regular old 'Winnie-the-Pooh' honey bees. 'You never do know with bees. Huh? Pooh?' Kate mumbled.

 

Kate had plans and her plans had backup plans. Anaphylactic shock was not even part of any contingency plan. Because Kate was invincible and nothing could kill Kate Argent. So it was laughable that it would be her undoing. 

 

Kate tried to take in a labored breath. It was a futile attempt. The light was slowly fading from her already limited vision. Her chest felt tighter. Her eyes got swollen inch by inch blocking out the light. Kate thought she’d have more time. But no. Not much time. 

 

‘Not much time.’ Kate tried to say. It came out a mumble lost in the swell of her tongue, the roundness of her too full cheeks, the tightness of her jaw. 

 

The forest around her sounded alive. It was a living, breathing beast that made Kate wish she could live another day to see the sunset and another sunrise one last time.

 

There was a buzzing annoying voice babbling in her ears. Kate realized it was the cops boy. He is crying to his mother. Asking his mother to rise from the dead. Pleading with her to not leave him. Kate tried her best to block out the chattering nonsense. It didn't work. The words followed Kate into the darkness. Kate's only solace was that she succeeded in taking the woman's life.

 

Kate couldn’t help the ironic snort that escaped her mouth. It miraculously wasn't her last. Kate hoped she might be able to survive this. If she could crawl to the entrance of the preserve where her car was located then she could make it to her phone and call for help. 

 

Kate started to make her way but couldn’t seem to move for the soreness of her limbs and the immediate pain Kate felt with every breath she took. This couldn’t be how Kate Argent died!

 

The bee venom worked fast. Faster than Kate expected but then Kate never thought she would die.

 

Kate tried to open her eyes but the anaphylactic shock was working its way through her body and making her eyelids puffy.  Kate could feel the puffiness in her face. She was literally blowing up and the stretch in her cheeks was getting painful. 

 

At least she knew where the car was located so she could make her way to it. She tilted her head to the side where the boys’ voice was coming from and waited for him to continue. The angle made it better for her to breathe but it was still too difficult to draw breath into her aching lungs.    
  


Kate was still trying to get away. That made it harder for Kate to breathe but if she could get to her phone then maybe she could get help. Her head felt like it was about to explode. She couldn’t get enough air in her beleaguered lungs. 

 

Kate started to panic because she didn’t want to die. Kate had a plan. She needed to end the Hale Pack. They needed to die so her dad could love her again.

 

The boy Derek. Derek Hale with all his werewolf family of curs. Derek Hale with the eye color that defied a color name. Derek Hale with the innocent face despite his ability to turn into a beast and eventually kill innocents.  He had to pay for that possibility. And he would. He would get to live with the knowledge that it was his fault his family was dead.

 

It didn't matter that the boy hadn’t killed anyone yet. It didn't matter because sooner or later Derek Hale would lose control. It was just a matter of time. 

 

Kate just needed some time. Just. More time. Time to get rid of the pack before they got the chance to lose control.

 

But more importantly…

 

If Kate proved herself worthy of being the matriarch by killing the Hale Pack without the damn Code in the way then Dad would love her again. Dad wouldn't think she was stupid If she got rid of the Hale Pack. 

 

The Hale Pack was the most stable Pack in California. Some would say even in North America.

 

Finally proving that she hadn’t made a mistake when she’d told Gerard that the sole human in the Hale pack was her friend. If Kate could prove that she could do what needed to be done despite the Code then Dad would love her. Dad would finally praise her, tell Kate all the things she desperately needed to hear. Dad would validate her life. Kate could finally feel whole again. Dad would love her and everything would be OK again. 

 

Kate’s body was tense as she tried to breathe one last time before she blacked out and felt nothing ever again. 

 

Just as suddenly as Kate was dying on her last breath Kate was talking to the two goons she'd pay to set fire to the main Hale house. It was as if Kate had been hallucinating! Kate was suddenly breathing again!

 

Kate blinked and took in a much-needed breath. She wasn't dying. She was standing in the middle of Bee Meadow at the edge of the Beacon Hills Preserve. It was a quiet place just outside the Hale territory border. 

 

The two goons were from Beacon Meadow and Kate’s extensive research assured her they were the perfect couple to burn down the Hale Pack. 

 

Kate didn't expect to wake let alone be standing in the meadow. Kate was sure she'd been dying just a few minutes ago and then she wasn't. 

 

Kate dismissed the two goons with an angry growl and turned around. She watched as a boy and his mother approached her. Kate knew she was going to kill them.

 

Yet. Kate didn't get the chance. She was forced to live through her death yet again.

 

The most prolific serial killer was finally dead in the middle of the Beacon Hills Preserve. She had nothing to show for her short miserable life. Cruel to the very end Kate tried but failed to take with her the life of two more people.

 

Instead, she laid in a puddle of her own urine. Her last irrational thought was: 'Choking? Not again!'


	2. Claudia Gajos, The Grindylow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles watches his mom die and feels his Spark come alive.

 

### Claudia Gajos, The Grindylow

Stiles Stilinski knelt by his mother. She was nonresponsive and the boys’ heart broke. His tears slide down his face. He wiped at his eyes impatiently so he could at least see what he was doing. 

 

It was of no use. 

 

The tears didn’t stop as he reached for his mother. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. He didn’t think his heart could break any more than it already had. He was wrong because once he touched his mom he realized she was dead. His mom didn't react.

 

“Ma, mama, mami, mommy. Please.” Stiles’ voice broke on the last word. He drew it out until he couldn’t speak anymore.   

 

At that moment he knew grief like no other should ever know at such a tender age. Because at that moment Stiles knew that his way of life was over. He knew that things were going to change. That the love his dad felt for his son was only half of what his dad felt for his mom. Not only had he just lost his mom but that soon he’d also lose his dad to the same grief Stiles was feeling. 

 

The blond woman who killed his mother had smiled cruelly when she’d turned to face them. The woman had dismissed the two men behind her with a nod of her head. The men had run away without a backward glance but Stiles would remember them clearly.

 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” The woman had said with a cruel smirk. 

 

Stiles had felt a cold shiver down his spine when the woman spoke.

He trusted his instincts and they were screaming that this woman was Evil with a capital “E”. His mom must have the same instincts, too because she squeezed his hand. Then his mom had released it and told him to run.  

 

Stiles had panicked and not moved. Then faster than he thought possible the blond woman pulled out a gun from nowhere and a very loud pop made him flinch. It made his mom flinch so much that she fell back. 

 

The large jar that had been in her backpack exploded when she fell back on it. The flap of the backpack opened haphazardly. The honeycomb in the jar was full of bees. The swarm released from the jar was angry. They seemed to swim from the backpack and moved as one to find a target. And the target they found was the blond woman. 

 

Stiles’ mouth fell open in a silent scream.

 

The smell of honey permeated the natural mossy dirt and wet-dog hair smell of the forest.

 

The woman tried to bat the bees away but there were too many. They covered the woman's face arms neck and every inch of visible skin. 

 

She had shorts and a t-shirt and hiking boots. She was tall and skinny. Stiles would even go as far as calling her attractive if not for the whole cruelty streak she wore like an armor. 

 

As suddenly as they had swarmed then they were gone. Only a few remained. Then the rest of the bees flew away. 

 

That felt wrong because honey bees died when they sting. It's what they do! These bees. Not these bees.

 

They didn’t go far. This was their home after all and the queen must be around. And Stiles. Well, he didn’t know and didn’t care. The woman was on the ground trying to crawl away breathing irregularly.

 

Stiles would remember this as a secondary thing that was happening while he finally ran but not away. He ran to his mom’s side and pleaded for her not to die. It was too late though. She wasn’t breathing and there was a scared look frozen on her face. A trickle of blood running down from the middle of the hole on her head.

 

His mom was gone. No amount of begging would bring her back. 

 

The  _ angerfeargrief  _ he felt was almost overwhelming. Stiles curled up next to his mother with the sole purpose of never leaving her side. He squeezed her and whisper-yelled: 

 

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair. Come back! Mom! Moma! Mami, please! Come back!”

 

He felt useless just as his mother was always telling him. At least his mom wouldn’t ever say those things to him ever again.

 

Somehow that was worse than if she were here yelling at him that he was a useless piece of shit. 

 

Stiles screamed “no” and it was a long drawn out word that seemed endless. It seemed to come from the pit his stomach and from the middle of his very broken heart.

 

The word seemed to stream out of his open mouth in capital “n” with a bunch of capital “o’s” behind it. He'd laugh at the imagery it invoked if his heart wasn't breaking into a million pieces. 

 

He could feel the organ shrinking, becoming two sizes too small. That would have been funny too if Stiles wasn’t in so much pain. The squeeze he felt in his heart was almost too much. 

  
  


 


	3. Mieczyslaw “The Stiles” Stilinski, The Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles's Spark awakens and is kidnapped.

### Mieczyslaw “The Stiles” Stilinski, The Spark

_ Stiles must be dreaming. It's the only explanation for this scene. _

_ For one, Stiles is not eight and two, his mom is not this sick woman Stiles is putting to bed. And yet, the woman has his mom’s face and his mom’s voice. She has his mom’s long hands and the same turned up nose Stiles has inherited. Including the same freckles that she gave Stiles. So. It’s his mom but it’s not his mom? _

 

_ “You're not my son!” Claudia whisper-yelled as Stiles put his mom to bed. They were in a hospital and the bed was lowered so Stiles was able to maneuver his mom into the bed without much difficulty. Stiles was trying to be good. He’s got his mouth shut for once and he can feel the bruises where his mom had just put her hands on him.  _

 

_ Claudia was just a shadow of her former self. The frontotemporal dementia was not only robbing Stiles of his mom but was robbing the woman of everything she ever had been. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ “Time is a construct. ‘There is no spoon.’ Right? So,” Claudia said in a quivering voice. “Do you remember Hawking's time travel party?” She asked just as Stiles felt a lurching in his stomach and an ache in his heart that felt like heartbreak. 

 

Just like Stiles was suddenly in the here and now. He couldn’t even look around before he stumbled and tripped over his own feet. He'd lost track of time going into his own mind. This happened too often and it would kill him one day. 

 

The dream-vision-past life-future life (whatever it was) was still at the forefront of his mind and he remembered all of it. 

 

That wasn’t a dream, it was more of a nightmare and Stiles had been bigger. Claudia had been older and it made Stiles feel like his equilibrium was shot. Stiles continued to fall forward onto the forest floor. Dirt, stones, and rocks embedded themselves in his palms and his knees. The deer trail was still in use and the pathway they caused with their hooves made the floor of the forest a veritable pain upon his knees.

 

He opened his eyes not remembering when he’d closed them. 

 

He was on the ground crying. He… he felt so… empty. Then his mother was hovering next to him. At first, he felt relief, then he felt despair. He was going to get  _ it _ now. 

 

Stiles waited for the pain of her fingernails that felt like claws to grab onto his ears. He waited for the string of disparaging remarks that usually followed his clumsiness. But the fingernail-claws and the words didn’t come.    
  
Instead, gentle hands were holding his wrists. Gently! She scraped off the worst of the debris on his palms and then they on his knees. Stiles didn’t understand but it felt wrong. 

 

From behind him, he heard voices. They were close enough to hear the words but they didn’t make any sense. Stiles was still confused by his mom and his brain wasn’t catching up with what the woman was saying to the two hoodlums. 

 

Stiles was only five but he knew what a hoodlum looked like. Stiles could swear he’d seen these two in particular when he went to the station.

 

Stiles didn’t even think more about them as he looked at the mess he’d made. 

 

The honeycomb he’d been carrying was on the floor and the bees were flying around it lazily. It was a right mess. The honey within the large structure had erupted and was pooling away slowly. By the nature of the bees they should be angry and stinging him and his mother. 

 

They weren’t. They just flew close to him almost as if they were trying to comfort him. It was an odd scene. 

 

His mom was standing over him looking down and then she was looking up because someone was speaking to her.

 

“You’re not supposed to be here?” someone asked unsure of their place in the world. Stiles looked up and saw a strangely familiar blond woman. For some reason he expected the woman to be more confident, to be cruel. He expected the woman to want both his mother and him dead. She didn’t seem to be anything Stiles expected. She wasn’t confident and neither were the men standing behind her.

 

They were all awestruck. Their mouths hanging open as if wanting to say something. Stiles took the opportunity for what it was. He screamed ‘no’. 

 

(Again.)

 

There was a queasy feeling in his tummy and a warmth in his chest where he felt power exerting itself. (This time) the word wasn’t a word at all. It was a swarm of bees and they were flying out of his stomach and through his esophagus and out of his mouth. The bees already flying around seemed to connect with the hive flying out of his mouth and flew to the woman and two men. Within a few minutes, they were surrounded and covered in bees.

 

It was horrible and Stiles should have been traumatized. He wasn’t. Stiles was just relieved. His mom would live. The power he felt in his gave him hope. Stiles could do anything!

 

The men ran but the woman stood her ground. But no, that’s not what she was doing. The woman was frozen in panic or fear or stubbornness. Stiles didn’t know. The smell of the forest was suddenly overpowered by the smell of urine.

 

Fear it was then, Stiles decided. It seemed fight or flight had taken over the woman’s body and flight evacuated the woman’s bowls so the woman could run. Too little, too late though.

 

The world had shrunken for Stiles.  It had become the feeling of the buzzing bees in his stomach. It had focused solely on them flying out of his throat to tickle the inside of his mouth before they flew out of it to attack the woman. By the time he closed his mouth all of the bees had swarmed the woman’s whole body. 

 

She fell to her knees and slumped hard on her them as she fell forward onto the unforgiving hard forest floor. Stiles could tell the woman would be dead after a while when she fell on her face.

 

As soon as the woman fell the world came back into sudden focus and Stiles felt his mom holding onto him, steadying him. 

 

Praising him!

 

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. My beautiful powerful sweetheart. That’s right baby. Get that bitch. Get that Hunter Bitch. You’ve done so well today my sweet, sweet boy.” She cooed at him. This woman that sounded so much like his mom but wasn't. His mom had never spoken so sweetly to him and it had Stiles confused. He was scared because it was too good to be true. 

 

At some point, his mom had picked him up in her arms and held him with one strong arm around his stomach and another under his arms. He realized that she didn’t want to turn her back on the “Hunter Bitch”.

 

That was okay with him. He didn’t either, not until the woman was dead. Soon the woman would breathe her last. Until then Stiles would prefer that the blond Hunter Bitch stayed in his direct line of site.

 

“Stiles, my sweet boy. Let’s call daddy. OK?” She asked as Stiles watched the last of the woman’s body twitch. Soon the bees rose from her body. The hive just went about their lives as if they hadn’t just killed a woman. Then they slowly flew away. 

 

The woman’s body seemed bloated, there were lumps on the woman’s face distorting it into an ugly caricature. Her hair was shimmering in the hot California sun. It made Stiles think of Medusa. Somehow  _ this  _ face of death was worse.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Stiles felt his mom crouch down and his feet planted themselves on the forest floor. It was then that Stiles realized he was a little smaller than he remembered. He looked down but he was still wearing his red Keds and blue shorts and shirt with a Batman logo on it. The plaid shirt he’d been wearing was still in place and his red hoodie was still hanging loosely on his shoulders. 

 

Yet everything felt just a bit… Off. He could move his feet in his keds. The shorts were almost falling from his hips. His hair felt longer than it should be. Terrible bangs were almost obscuring his sight. 

 

“Fringe?!” Stiles huffed in exasperation. And his voice. It was the same but different. It was higher.

 

It was while his mom was talking on the phone with his dad that Stiles realized what was wrong. 

 

He had to check.

 

His hand went to the crotch of his pants but there was nothing there! And because he is Stiles and he’d never learn how to keep his mouth shut when it was supposed to be closed, he’d never learned to think before he spoke, Stiles said in wonder and a lightheartedness he could feel to his core: 

 

“I’m a girl!” Then he turned to his mom and she winked at him.

 

His mom winked at him and came down to his level. But this woman. The woman standing in front of him wasn’t his mom. 

 

No. This woman was all wrong.

 

Because Stiles’s mom was… His mom was a grindylow. And this woman was definitely not a grindylow. This woman was human. 

 

The grindylow was a pale greenish color and always looking like if it was dripping water that only Stiles could see. The grindylow’s mouth always hung open in a silent scream. It had many appendages that seemed to flow around it. The main ones were thicker than the others. Those appendages? Stiles equated them to his mom’s arms and legs. 

 

The arms ended in large claws. They didn’t even seem to have palms and they seemed to come out of the end of the arms and extended right into the claws. Her hair started in the middle of the back of her head. It was green and then changed to a pale straw color. The hair was styled like a crown. Stiles knew the ‘hair’ wasn’t the correct word for what passed as hair. It was seaweed or some other sea plant Stiles couldn’t name.  

 

Stiles was a little freaked out to find a black-haired, plump, pale, tired looking 24-year-old woman with a pert upturned nose, whiskey-colored eyes and mole dotted face staring at him lovingly. The ‘lovingly’ part was what almost broke his heart all over again. 

 

It was his mom and it wasn’t. Stiles backed away from the woman that was his mom but wasn’t. 

 

Then the miracle of miracles happened and Stiles knew he was going crazy. He realized the woman had  _ knelt _ down to his level! And while Stiles was scared shitless he wasn’t a punk and he wouldn’t run without some answers first. Stiles knew that curiosity was eventually going to get him killed. 

 

Or worse.

 

“That’s right, baby.” The NotMom! said. “Of course you’re a girl! The best part though? You’re a wizard, Stiles!” She grinned and Stiles’ stomach flipped twice as if he’d done a loopy summersault. His mom never smiled at him; never. 

 

Did Stiles mention the opened gaped mouth of the grindylow earlier? THAT is what Stiles is used to. Not this. Not a loving mom who smiled at him. Lovingly. 

 

Stiles could feel the frown on his face. He couldn’t help it. 

 

His mom? Claudia ‘The Grindylow’ Stilinski? Well, she had a permanent grimace on her face. Stiles couldn’t help but answer that smile with a frown. Stiles can’t be blamed for that reaction.

 

“No, but seriously. You, my dear, are a powerful Spark. Daddy’s on his way but we gotta make like a tree. OK? Baby?” She pleaded with him but her face never stopped smiling and she never stopped looking at him like… Like… Like she loved him. 

 

Stiles’ mouth answered for him before he could help himself: “And get the fuck out of here?” At his answer, she giggled. Claudia grabbed him and hugged him close to her as she began to laugh in earnest. 

 

Stiles was definitely crazy. Most victims of abuse don’t know they are being abused. They just accepted the reality they’d been dealt. Stiles knew from the start that his mom was a cruel beast that just wanted to hurt him, break him down to bring him back up and just break him down again the next day. This was Stiles’ life for the first five years he’d been alive. His mom wasn’t this  _ person. _

 

His Mom wasn't a Person. She was a grindylow. Stiles was so preoccupied with this new development that he wasn’t completely aware of what was happening. This wasn’t new for Stiles. He fixated on things and became almost obsessed with them.

 

They were walking away from the pissy (Ha!) dead woman and when Stiles looked back the trees in the preserve seemed to come alive and blocked the woman’s body from Stiles’ view. Of course, that’s not what was really happening. Right? Because trees only came to life in ‘The Lord of the Rings’. He scrunched his brows but it was then that Stiles registered the words he’d half been listening to when his mom was on the phone. 

 

She’d said she was taking Stiles and Dad wouldn’t ever be able to find them. She’d also said that when the day came and Dad did find them it would be because Claudia wouldn’t be in her right mind.

  
He didn’t have time to process them because his mom put a hand-stitched cap on his head. It was light and the fabric made the hair in his eyes go away. Stiles could see they had left the welcome sanctuary that was the Beacon Hills Preserve. Then Stiles blinked and he registered that they were in a car he didn’t recognize.

 

Stiles knew he was losing time and that he should try to get away from this woman but he couldn’t think past putting one foot in front of the other.

 

His mom must have noticed because she picked him up and carried him. The feeling that Stiles was missing something didn’t go away. He should be doing something to get away but he couldn’t think what to do. His attention was focused on just breathing.

 

The world seemed to be slipping and Stiles felt as if he was in a fog. He felt for the very first time in his life as if he was not putting all the clues together. Stiles felt his thoughts get slower the farther away they got from the preserve.

 

Stiles knew they weren’t headed home but it took him a while to realize it. The ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills!” sign they passed on the way to Hudson’s farm was his first clue and it took him at least half an hour before he realized they were leaving Beacon Hills.

 

Stiles suddenly knew that he’d never see his dad again. That made him sadder than he’d felt a few hours ago. The loss he’d felt for his mom was only second to the loss he now felt for his dad. The tears that had been threatening spilled as he sat in the booster seat. He looked at the clasp of the belt and tried to figure out how to unclasp it. He couldn’t and he didn’t know how it worked.

 

Stiles was so used to thinking on his feet and being clever that he half expected to have a plan on how to get away from this woman that he didn’t realize he was never going to get away. 

 

This woman was way worse than the grindylow. At least with the grindylow he could understand its motives. He didn’t know what motivated this woman. 

 

Whatever it was. It was not good.  

The possibility he’d felt when he realized earlier that he’d rewound time by two minutes was gone. In it’s place was left a burning spark in his heart that felt like it was being stifled. 


End file.
